I'm Conflicted (I Inhale, Now I'm Addicted)
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Derek had only gone to the city to see Stiles, he hadn't expected anything else to happen. Sterek. Oneshot.


**My love for these two flares up every now and then, and this time, this happened. I hope you guys enjoy it. I apologize for any mistakes. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the title, which comes from _I Can't Stay Away _by The Veronicas. **

Derek Hale had forgotten how overwhelming New York could be.

It had been exactly what he and Laura Hale had needed after the Hale fire—it had been messy and loud and it was hard just to _think_ with all the scents and sounds that were going on in the city, which had been what they had needed to try and lose themselves.

But that had been a long time ago, and Derek didn't need that now.

He wasn't back in the city to forget.

He was back in the city to _find_.

To find Mieczyslaw Stilinski, to be exact.

It wasn't as though he had lost him in the first place, he knew exactly where he was, but it had been nearly six months since he had actually seen him in person, and Derek had just _needed_ to see him tonight.

Now, he almost regretted it.

He couldn't _quite_ bring himself to, but it was getting there.

Stiles had looked..._Fuck_, he looked even better than he had the last time Derek had seen him.

He was twenty-one now, and that dorky, awkward teenager that Derek had first met on the preserve wasn't there on first glance. He was definitely there when you looked deeper, when you knew who Stiles was, when he was comfortable and spoke around you, but when he was on stage, with a grin on his face and tattoo's snaking up his left arm, and drumsticks twirling around in his fingers, he looked like a confident, beautiful _man_. He bantered with the crowds and with his band mates and there were a lacy pair of bright red panties that were flung at him and he caught them without a tinge of a blush, smirking and winking at the crowd.

It was ridiculous.

Derek _knew_ that Stiles had grown up a lot—he had watched it happen, when he came back for holidays and visits and when they spoke on the phone and via Skype—but it was different seeing him in his element.

He was happy for him.

He was so happy for him that part of Derek wanted to demand that Stiles didn't return to Beacon Hills to work with his father at the police station and be thrown back into the crazy supernatural world that had calmed down a lot over the years, but still flared up enough that Derek and his pack always had to be on alert. Stiles deserved to be happy and lead a life that didn't put him in danger, but Derek also knew that there was no way that Stiles wasn't coming back.

Beacon Hills was his home.

Derek did find it quite amusing, though, that even though Stiles had moved to the city, he had found himself surrounded by werewolves there as well. There was Isaac Lahey, who was the bass guitarist, and who had become completely smitten by Scott McCall. Scott was in the band, of course, because he had moved to the city to study with Stiles as well, and he was on the electric guitar and vocals, and he was just as smitten by Isaac. And then there was Theo Raeken, the other lead vocals, who Derek couldn't help but hate, even though he had never even talked to the man.

He wasn't an Alpha, but he had a dominant personality and he clearly liked Stiles. Derek had found out through the grapevine—from Liam Dunbar, he'd heard from the nosy teen—that there had been something between Stiles and Theo at some point. Derek was assuming that meant they slept together, but he had never asked for clarification, because the truth was, he didn't want to hear it.

Derek took in a deep breath as he turned the corner of the busy street and was so close to the apartment building where he and Laura Hale had spent a few years. They still owned the apartment, even though he was back in Beacon Hills and Laura had her own pack that lived in San Diego, just as somewhere that they could touch base at whenever they came into the city. Derek still felt wound up from the concert, from seeing Stiles, but when he caught a familiar scent, he couldn't help but smile as he saw the familiar doorman.

Ward Reynolds had been there for twenty years before Derek and Laura had moved in, and if he had his way, he was going to be there for another twenty more.

"Mr Hale!" Mr Reynolds looked up at him in surprise, although after the initial big smile that spread across his face, it faltered and Derek smelt a ripple of nervousness come off him, which was odd. "It's been a long time," he continued.

"Yeah," Derek gave him a small but genuine smile. He wanted to know what the scent of nervousness was for, but right now, he just needed to be alone, and he needed to be away from the noise that surrounded him. "I'm feeling really tired, but you'll be on tomorrow, right?"

"Uh—yes," Mr Reynolds jerked his head in a nod, and it was obvious, that whatever was bothering, was _still_ bothering him, but he didn't say anything.

"I'll see you then," Derek nodded at him before continuing into the building. He kept the keycard in his wallet, and he pulled it out from behind a little picture that Erica Reyes had printed out for him a while ago, telling him that his wallet was sad, and needed livening up. And by livening up, she meant a picture of her and Stiles, both grinning cheesily at the camera.

Derek had never taken it out, because he adored both of them, even if he would never tell them that, because that would just go straight to their heads and make them impossible to deal with.

As soon as he got out of the elevator on the floor of his apartment, he stopped with a frown, taken aback by a _very_ familiar scent.

Stiles.

It was Stiles, and it was strong, as though he had been here within the past day or two.

Derek frowned as he slowly walked toward his door, unlocking it with the keycard and then stepping inside, and the scent was just stronger in there.

_Stiles_.

Why the hell did the whole place smell so strongly like Stiles?

He hadn't given any of them a key to the place, even though he would have if they had asked. He would have just told them that no strangers were allowed, and they wouldn't have been allowed to throw any parties. Just because he didn't live there anymore, didn't mean that he didn't still have a strong connection with the place, because of his and Laura's history there. But Scott and Stiles were family, they were pack, and if they had asked him for a key, then he would have given them one.

But they hadn't, so he didn't, and yet Stiles had very clearly been here.

_Everywhere_.

As Derek slowly walked into the kitchen, his fingers running along the bench top and then toward the sink, which had a couple of droplets of water still clinging to the metal sides. The cleaner that Derek had come around every second week, just to dust the place and air it out, came last week, and there was no way that those water drops were from then.

Derek blinked as he heard footsteps coming closer to the door, and then the sound of a keycard scraping against the lock. It took two attempts before the person managed to slide it home, and the door swung open.

Stiles.

Of _course_ it was Stiles.

He now had a hoodie hanging off his shoulders, not quite as baggy as the hoodies he used to wear, that swallowed up his slim frame. This hoodie was tighter, and it was unzipped, and underneath it, he was wearing a reasonably tight fitting black shirt that had slashes of colour through it, the shirt that he had been wearing on stage. The tattoo's up his right arm were hidden by the hoodie, which was unfortunate, although Derek knew that once he turned and faced him, he would be able to see some of the tattoo's inching out under the neckline of the shirt.

Derek also caught a glimpse of the ring in Stiles' eyebrow as well, which was new since the last time he had seen the younger man.

It suited him.

He smelt like beer and a little like sweat, nothing unpleasant, and as he turned on the light, there was a carefree expression on his face that existed for all of two seconds before he turned around and realized that he wasn't alone in the kitchen.

He squealed.

Derek couldn't help but smirk at that.

Some things never changed.

"Derek?!" Stiles cried out as he realized who it was. "Wh—what are you doing here? How long have you been here?" He frowned and made a face. "_What_ are you doing here?!" He repeated and Derek quirked an eyebrow, leaning an elbow against the bench and tipping his head to the side as he looked at Stiles.

"This is _my place_," Derek said slowly and he saw Stiles' cheeks redden under the light from above them. "Although...I can definitely smell that you've made it your own," he arched and eyebrow and Stiles' cheeks became even redder, but he kept his chin jutted forward determinedly, meeting Dereks eyes. Derek met his gaze for a few more beats before letting out a small laugh. "Is this why Mr Reynolds was so nervous downstairs? Because he knows that you've been coming up to my apartment while I've been away?"

"What were you doing making Ward all nervous?!" Stiles actually looked a little indignant about that. "He saw I had a key, and I obviously knew the place was yours and Laura's, so he was just doing what he thought was right, no need to be making the nice man all nervous with those Alpha eyes of yours." Derek rolled his eyes, because of course Stiles was on a first name basis with the doorman.

"He still should have notified me that I had a trespasser," Derek stated, although his lips were beginning to curl upwards.

"_Not_ a trespasser," Stiles correct.

"An unannounced long term house guest?" Derek suggested and Stiles pursed his lips before giving a single nod.

"We can agree on that one," he said and Derek's lips fully curved into a smile. Stiles couldn't help but smile back, and his shoulders relaxed a little, realizing that Derek wasn't angry. But then the silence stretched out, and it became a bit awkward, and that was when Derek was hit with just how _strong_ Stiles' scent was in here.

"So..." Derek licked his lips and glanced around. "How long have you been staying here?" Stiles twisted his lips together and shrugged.

"Not long...And it's not _every_ night," Stiles mumbled as he walked over to the couch and shrugged out of his hoodie, laying it over the back of the couch and exposing his neck and his long arms, before resting his ass on the arm of the couch and looking back at Derek.

Derek just arched an eyebrow at how comfortable Stiles clearly was in this area.

Stiles seemed to get that from Derek's look as well, and he gave Derek a sheepish smile.

"Alright, well..." he chewed at the corner of his lower lip. "You know how Scott and Isaac are _definitely_ a thing now, right?" Derek didn't respond, because he didn't know that for certain, because if he was being completely honest, he didn't need to know about the sex lives of his pack members. Once it became serious, and they introduced their partner officially to the pack, then he became involved and he paid proper attention, but most of his pack were so young, and there were quite a few lovers that came and went, he really didn't have the patience to keep up with all of them. "Well, they are. And that means that Isaac is almost always at our apartment. And our apartment is small, it's barely big enough for the two of us, and add in two more—"

"Last time I checked, Isaac is only _one_ werewolf, not two," Derek pointed out.

"Oh, but where Isaac goes, Theo goes," Stiles stated, and there was a look on his face that said he wasn't _completely_ happy with that, but he didn't smell nervous or angry about it. "They're kind of a package deal, since they're roommates as well—and neither of them have a pack, really, they just have each other, so that's why they're always together."

"Yes, I've heard the four of you spend a lot of time together," Derek tried to keep his voice idle, but from the way Stiles raised his pierced eyebrow, he knew that it wasn't getting past him.

"Anyway," Stiles continued with a shrug. "They spend a lot of time together at the apartment, and with Theo there, the place gets a little crowded and, you know, I miss you—_you guys_—and so coming here kind of makes me feel more at home and there's more space and so—" Stiles shrugged again. "I don't know, it just makes me feel better." Derek regarded him with quiet eyes, but his wolf was scratching and clawing inside his chest, so, _so_ proud at the fact that his apartment made Stiles feel good.

The silence stretched out, but it wasn't quite as tense as before. Derek ran his fingers through his hair and wasn't exactly subtle about the way he drew in a deep breath through his nose, inhaling Stiles' scent.

He heard a huff and looked up, and Stiles was smirking down at his feet, obviously noticing the movement.

"Well, what are you doing here _now_?" Derek asked. "You guys just finished a gig and you did really well, I would have assumed you'd be out celebrating it, not coming home straight after." Stiles blinked at him, honey-coloured eyes widen.

"You came and saw us perform?" He gaped and Derek cleared his throat as he realized what he had revealed.

"Yeah, well..." Derek pursed his lips together as he contemplated his next words. But looking at Stiles, and the hopeful expression on his face and the fact that he was _here_, finding comfort in somewhere that was _Dereks_, he couldn't stop himself from blurting it out. "I was here to see you. To see you perform. That's the whole _point_." It wasn't exactly elegant, but from the way Stiles' eyes seemed to impossibly widen more, it seemed to get the point across. "It's been six months since I've seen you and—I missed you."

"Six months and two weeks, but who's counting?" Stiles mumbled, his cheeks pink, and Derek couldn't stop himself from smiling, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest. "We're going to be back soon...Just another few months...You couldn't wait til then?"

"I wanted to see you _now_," Derek answered truthfully. "And...And I wanted to see you _here_. I know that you're not planning on staying in the city, I know that you're coming back to Beacon Hills, but this place has been your home for the past three years, and you've got this band and—" Derek waved his hand at Stiles' figure. "This life here that I haven't really seen, except every couple of months. And I...Wanted to see it. See you," he repeated again.

"Yeah?" Stiles' smile was gorgeous, stretching across his lips. He moved forward until he was standing right in front of Derek, and when Derek took another breath in, there was the sweet, musky scent of arousal heavy in the air. Coming off _Stiles_. "Why now? Why so long? Why didn't you come _years_ ago?" Stiles' eyes searched his and Derek licked his lips quickly, noting the way that Stiles' eyes dipped down to follow the movement before coming back up. He reached out and smoothed his fingers over Stiles' cheek, cupping his jaw and touching his thumb to the corner of the younger mans mouth, something he had wanted to touch for _so long_.

"You were young, Stiles," Derek murmured. Clearly Stiles didn't like that response because his smile faded and he let out a frustrated breath through his nose, but Derek continued. "You still had a lot of things that you needed to experience, and you needed to do it by yourself. Like moving out of home and going to college and..." Derek couldn't help that his nose crinkled a little. "Be with other people, have relationships." Stiles met his eyes for a few more moments before sighing and quirking his lips in a little smirk.

"That wasn't quite what I was asking, Sour Wolf," that smirk met his eyes, making them glitter playfully. "I just wanted to know why you hadn't come out to New York in ages." Derek huffed and rolled his eyes, although his cheeks reddened a little. "But...An undying, life long love confession works for me," the smirk shifted into a grin that almost broke his face in half.

"It isn't life long!" Derek snipped back at him, his hand dropping from where it had been cupping Stiles' face and landed on his hip.

"So just undying then, huh?" Stiles' grin softened again. Derek sighed and he tried to keep the sassy expression with his arched eyebrow on his face, but he couldn't. Because then Stiles was leaning forward, and his plush lips were against Derek's, and it was the best feeling he had ever experienced. His cock was half hard straight away in his jeans and his mouth fell open, granting Stiles access. He tasted even better than he smelt and when his tongue swept over Derek's lower lip, he could hear his own moan from deep in his throat. Stiles kissed incredibly and definitely with experience. Part of Derek regretted the whole part of him letting Stiles go, never admitting how he had felt, and giving him the chance to experience everything because _he_ wanted to be the one who taught Stiles those things.

But that wasn't for now.

He tampered down that possessive part of his wolf and just let the sensations spread over him, Stiles stoking the flames that were burning in the pit of his stomach and beginning to stretch upwards. Stiles' hands came up, resting on either side of Dereks face, one sliding around to the back of his head, his fingers sliding through Dereks short hair and the other hand stayed against Dereks cheek. Derek let out another moan as Stiles gave it a little tug and pushed him backwards gently. Derek was more than happy to go with him, letting him move them properly back into the kitchen area and then Derek was pressed up against the bench top.

"Shit, sweetheart," Stiles murmured, licking at Derek's mouth, his blunt teeth pressing against his lips, his breathing coming out raspy. Derek's eyes widened at the name, and he faltered for a moment before he let out a groan. "I've wanted to kiss you since I was sixteen. I've wanted to _taste_ you since I was sixteen," his tongue flicked out, tracing his Dereks mouth before they dropped down just a little, skating over Dereks jaw.

"_Shit_," Derek sighed out.

"Is this happening?" Stiles' voice was gravelly and deep and so unlike the kid that Derek had known back when he had first met him. "I'm not pressuring you, I'm totally happy with just making out with you right fucking here in this spot because—_fuck_," he broke off again and then he bit gently at Dereks jaw, making his whole body jerk, the older man bracing his hands on the edge of bench to keep himself from collapsing on his suddenly weak knees. "But if this is happening, then I'm totally okay with that too." This time, Stiles' mouth moved lower, to Derek's neck, and he knew that he had to be careful, because this was an Alpha that he was touching the neck of, but he also knew Derek wouldn't hurt him.

Derek could _never_ hurt him.

He had been holding back for years, and Stiles was a smart guy, he had a lot of things that he put it down to. The age gap was a big one, especially since when they first met—back when Scott had first been attacked by that rogue werewolf—Stiles and Scott had only been sixteen, and Derek had been nearly twenty-one. Stiles' dad had only just come to terms with the fact that his son was involved in a supernatural world where his best friend was a werewolf, he really wouldn't have taken him dating an older person the best. There was the relationship issues thing as well, given Derek had only ever had two serious relationships—both of who were _female_—and both of them had ended _terribly_, Kate Argent nearly killing his entire family, succeeding with a lot of them, and then there was Jennifer Blake, who had been manipulating him the whole time, not as bad as Kate, but still bad. And that sort of lead right into the next problem, which was the fact that Derek never felt as though he was worthy of anything _good_ in his life. He had gotten a lot better, actually, over the years, and Stiles was glad, because Derek deserved the world, but he had a habit of self-sabotaging his own happiness.

But he liked Stiles.

Stiles had known that.

He'd been happy to give Derek time, though, because he had a feeling that another thing was the fact that Stiles was not only young, but inexperienced in the world, and Stiles had definitely gone out and done that—_gotten_ that experience, and he had just been planning on tackling Derek for a big discussion once he was finished up with college and went back to Beacon Hills.

But this worked.

This was good.

"Fuck _yes_, this is happening," Derek breathed out, head tipped all the way back and completely exposing his throat to Stiles. Stiles knew how big a thing that was—Isaac and Scott both had a lot of loud sex and they left each other with a lot of scratches that Stiles caught glimpses of while they were in their healing stage, and every now and then there were hickeys, on shoulders and chest, but never on their throats.

And yet here was Derek, the Alpha, this beautiful, powerful man, and he was completely surrendering himself to Stiles.

Stiles' heartbeat was rabbiting in his chest, and he knew that Derek could hear it clearly, because even _Stiles_ could hear it, thundering in his ears. He was careful with Derek, not wanting to push anything too fast or too hard, because he didn't know what Derek was ready for, even if he had just said that _this_—all of this—was happening. He licked Derek's throat, smoothing his tongue carefully over the tendons of his neck, then nuzzled his nose behind Derek's ear, marking him gently, non-threateningly. Then he let his teeth touch against his throat, only softly, skimming over the skin down to the curve where his neck met his shoulder. Stiles traced the curve back up, nipping at his ear before he pulled back to look at Derek, and he felt his cock throb in his jeans as he saw a flicker of red coming through Derek's eyes.

"Can we do this in the bedroom?" He asked, his voice coming out a _lot_ breathy. "I've wanted this for so long, and I want to do this right." Derek grinned, and it was _so beautiful_ that Stiles' heart skipped a beat, and even though he had just suggested that they move to the bedroom, he leaned forward and kissed Derek again. It was just...Derek had been so closed up, so shut off to everyone when Stiles had first met him, and he had come so far, but he still had a way of keeping a part of himself separate and a little uptight. But when Stiles kissed him and cupped his jaw with his hand, Derek just seemed to surrender underneath him, opening his mouth and allowing Stiles in. "You have no idea how bad I want to be in you," Stiles whispered out as the hand that wasn't against Dereks face curved over his hip and pressed into his ass.

After he had whispered those words, Derek tensed for a moment, and Stiles paused because he wondered if he had read this wrong—and then he stepped back and he winced, because Derek was an Alpha, of _course_ he would want to top, but there had always just been something about Derek that...Stiles had thought he would want to give up that control with someone he trusted.

"Or...Or not, like—you can—you can do me, that's totally fine as well, l-like that would still be amazing," Stiles stammered out, trying to quickly cover things up and make them better because there was no way that he wanted to ruin this moment, even if it was going to be changed up a little from how he had imagined it.

"No, no," Derek shook his head very quickly, and his eyes were red. Stiles watched him swallow hard and waited, wanting Derek to actually articulate what he wanted, since it felt as though maybe they had different ideas on what was happening and they needed to be on the same stage. Stiles waited, his head tilted slightly to the side so that his floppy hair was falling forward and the piercing in his eyebrow glinting under the light. Derek took in a deep breath, and there was a small, nervous smile on his face. "I want _you_ to be the one to...To be in _me_," he finally managed to say and Stiles' stomach jumped. Derek took in another deep breath and he closed his eyes for a moment, obviously trying to put what he was feeling into words, which had never been a strong suit to him. "I _really_ want you to be in me," he finally got out and Stiles grin stretched across his face.

"Okay," he breathed out, his voice a little shaky. "Okay—_great_, that's—totally awesome," he let out a nervous laugh and Derek rolled his eyes playfully, leaning forward to give the brunette man a quick kiss on the mouth.

"Stop talking so much and get on with it," Derek muttered and Stiles huffed out a laugh before reaching down and lacing his fingers together with Derek's. It was an intimate move, and actually one that they had done many times before, when comforting each other, but it felt different in this situation. It was something that they had done because they had a connection with each other, and they both helped to ground one another, but it felt even more solid now, and Derek was kind of glad that Stiles wasn't a werewolf and couldn't hear Derek's heart beating, because it was going embarrassingly fast. "Come on," Derek tugged at his hand gently and Stiles nodded.

They walked out of the kitchen area and down the short hall to Derek's bedroom. The door for Laura's room was firmly shut, and Derek knew that Stiles was smart enough to avoid Laura's room, because even though she hadn't used it in years, she went a little crazy when people touched her stuff.

Once Derek stepped into his bedroom—his _old_ bedroom—he was hit with an even stronger scent of Stiles.

And not just of Stiles general scent, of his skin and of his sweat.

It was deeper than that.

Stiles had _definitely_ gotten off in this room, and recently as well.

"Shit," Derek breathed out as he turned around to look at Stiles, who looked a little red for a moment, before shrugging it off and closing the gap between them, winding the hand that wasn't joined together with Derek's and placing it on his shoulder, stroking his thumb through the thin material of Derek's shirt and into his skin. Their lips came back together and Derek's stomach was twisting and churning and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he just wanted so _much_ of Stiles, he didn't know where to start.

"Can I undress you?" Stiles asked softly.

"Only if you undress as well," Derek replied with a half grin and Stiles smirked back, releasing Derek's hand and gripping the hem of the tee-shirt he was wearing. He pulled it over his head, revealing a toned torso with a light smattering of hair from his belly button and disappearing into his jeans, and even more tattoo's. None of them were new since Derek had last seen him, although he still felt his breathing hitch.

Especially since he knew that several of these tattoo's covered up scars that Derek hadn't been able to protect him from.

And then there was also the triskele, that Stiles had gotten under his rib cage on his left, just underneath where his heart was. It had actually been one of the first tattoo's that Stiles had gotten, and it had been Lydia Martin who had told Derek about it, with knowing look on her face.

Derek reached out with a finger and traced his finger over the curves of the triskele, licking his lips slowly before meeting Stiles' eyes. Stiles smiled at him gently and then touched the zipper of Derek's leather jacket.

"You have no idea how many of my teenage fantasies were filled with you in this jacket and nothing else," Stiles said ruefully and Derek couldn't help but laugh under his breath.

"Really?" He asked and Stiles just rolled his eyes—so massively that Derek was worried that they would roll back into his head.

"_No idea_. Seriously," Stiles muttered as he began sliding the jacket off Derek's shoulder. He was careful while undressing Derek, his fingers sliding over Derek purposefully, over his shoulders, over his chest, putting the jacket over the chair in the corner, and then taking off his henley, tossing that toward the chair as well. When Derek's chest was completely exposed, Stiles curved his fingers inward so that his blunt fingernails with their chipping black polish were gently pressed against Derek's biceps. He had stared at them so many times, and he had dreamed about getting his hands on them, and now he actually had that _chance_.

Stiles bent forward and licked Derek's nipple. Derek let out a hum of appreciation, and Stiles lightly bit down around his nipple. Derek sharp intake of breath said that he liked it, so the younger man did it again, teeth closing around the sensitive bud and then circling his wet tongue around it.

Then Stiles reached for Derek's belt, slowly undoing it and then the zipper. He could feel Derek's cock hard and pressing against the zipper, and after he had pulled the little metal tab down, undoing the teeth of the zip, and he pressed his thumb inside the opening, firmly tracing Derek's cock through the thin material of his briefs. The sound that Derek made was like a whimper and Stiles felt his body getting heavy, and he figured he should probably finish undressing Derek before he played around too much because he doubted he would be able to take Derek's weight and all it's heavy muscle.

"I can't wait to open you up," Stiles murmured as he began pushing Derek's jeans over his hips. Derek took in another deep breath, and Stiles left a sloppy kiss on Derek's hip as he bent down to help push the jeans over his knees. Derek put one hand on Stiles' shoulder to balance himself as he lifted one foot to take his jeans off that leg, and then lifted his other foot to take the jeans off completely. Stiles straightened back up leaned forward, nuzzling his nose against Derek's cheek. "I want to open you up with my tongue..." he murmured, bumping his nose against Derek's. "And my fingers—"

Stiles was cut off because Derek had suddenly picked him up as though he weighed nothing more than a feather, twisted them around and practically just dumped him on the bed, dropping down on top of him.

"_Fuck_," Stiles breathed out as Derek stretched over him, thighs on either side of his and hips pressing down firmly against his, their cocks coming together and creating a friction that would feel _so much better_ if there were no clothes separating them. Stiles rolled his hips upward and Derek groaned before capturing the younger mans lips with his own. The kiss was a lot more frantic this time and Derek's grinded his hips down to meet Stiles', and Stiles could feel his fingers shifting in and out of being claws and that just turned him on even more, loving the feeling of Derek slowly loosing control because of _Stiles_.

"You've got no idea what you do to me," Derek murmured. "I've wanted you for so long—wanted _this_ for so long," he was mumbling against Stiles' mouth as he pulled away just enough to be able to get the words out. "It's just..."

"I know, I know," Stiles muttered, his hands coming up to tug at Derek's hair. "You and all your hang ups," he paused to bite at Derek's lip. "But once this happens, you're mine, okay, Derek?" He stopped kissing at those words and pulled back to look up at Derek, meeting red eyes with honey coloured ones.

"_Yes_," Derek managed to get out, although his fangs were beginning to drop. "And you're mine." There was a possessive bite in his voice that Stiles loved and he thrust his hips upward at that.

"_I'm yours_," Stiles responded, saying the words that Derek so obviously needed to hear, and he was so completely ready to say them. It felt as he had been waiting his whole _life_ to say this, but maybe he hadn't been emotionally prepared back then. Scratch that—he _definitely_ hadn't been. But he was now. "I've _always_ been yours, Derek." Derek's mouth felt different from before, with the fangs that seemed to be filling it, and Stiles was completely okay with that. He knew that belonging to someone—especially to an Alpha—that voicing that out loud struck such an intense chord deep inside a werewolf, and he loved that he was the cause for this. "But, Derek," he pulled back again, although his fingers kept trailing down Derek's side, scratching lightly at his spine. "Right now...I want _you_ to be _mine_."

There was another groan, from deep inside Derek, and Stiles' hands had reached Derek's ass and he gripped the muscular mounds firmly, giving them a squeeze. Derek's head fell forward, his forehead resting against his shoulder.

"Sit on my face, baby," Stiles whispered. "Take off your briefs and sit on my face."

"_Fuck_." Stiles could feel Derek's teeth pricking against the skin of his shoulder. Stiles squeezed his ass again and Derek let out a shaky sigh, before relaxing his hands and letting his arms fall to his side so that Derek could compose himself. After a few moments, Derek pushed himself up on shaky thighs, resting his body on Stiles' lower half. Stiles stared up at him from where he was stretched out on Derek's bed—maybe it wasn't really Derek's bed anymore, maybe it was more Stiles' bed, which...Derek was okay with—and he rested his hands on Derek's thighs.

"Are you gonna sit on my face?" Stiles asked coyly as he skimmed his hands lightly up and down the strong thighs of the older man, scratching at the smattering of thin hairs. "Fuck your ass down on my tongue." He actually saw Derek's cock twitch at that and it made his smile grow. "Come on, Der..._Sit on my face_."

He was pretty sure Derek actually _ripped_ his own underwear off, rather than taking them off, because he barely moved from where he was resting at Stiles' waist before suddenly he was _exposed_ and then he was crawling forward, up over Stiles' body until Stiles blinked and Derek _was right there_.

The Alpha's knees were on either side of Stiles' face and his ass and the heavy hang of his sac was right above Stiles' nose. His scent was heady and intoxicating and Stiles didn't hesitate before he was leaning forward, licking a stripe from Derek's hole then along the perineum and toward his balls. Derek's whole body jerked forward and there was a thud as he thumped his arms and and head against the wall behind the bed.

Stiles _would_ be smiling with pride if he hadn't become so absolutely focused on making Derek's body _melt_. He didn't tease, he figured that there had already been several years of them teasing each other and they really didn't need to drag that out any longer. He licked a few long stripes, making sure Derek was wet, and then he pulled Derek's cheeks apart purposefully, holding them there as his tongue pressed gently but firmly against his hole.

Derek's guttural moans definitely told him that he was enjoying it, and Stiles' fingers inched closer to the slick skin that he had just licked, and one finger gently slid down, closer to Derek's hole, where Stiles' tongue was pressing. He licked and sucked at the rim, feeling the ring slowly loosen under his touch, and then he let his mouth drop away for a moment to touch his finger to the wet rim.

"Shit," Derek ground out and he tilted his hips backwards slightly so that the tip of Stiles' finger dipped inside his tight heat. Derek sucked in a breath and he pulled his hips forward before tilting them back again, taking in a little bit more of Stiles' finger. "_Shit_," Derek breathed out.

"You feel so fucking tight," Stiles murmured, although his voice was muffled from where he was underneath Derek. The werewolf could obviously hear, though, because he let out another moan and then he pushed himself further down on Stiles' finger, so that he was down to the first knuckle. "_Fuck_," Stiles wanted to watch his finger disappear into Derek's ass, although it was a little difficult to see, but he also wanted to make Derek feel as good as possible, so he began laving his tongue over Derek's sac. Derek groaned, and then started sliding down more rhythmically onto Stiles' finger. Stiles could feel the skin of Derek's hole beginning to dry and he pulled it out to slide it through the spit that was gathering at the corners of his mouth from licking and sucking at Derek's balls, and then pressed the finger back inside Derek. He slipped it in further and Derek's body shook above him.

"I want more," Derek sighed out and Stiles nodded, his hair tickling at Derek's inner thighs. He sucked Derek's sac into his mouth, being careful with his teeth, licking at the wrinkled skin and loving the way that Derek was thrusting both forward and back, trying to shove his ass down further on Stiles' finger and then also pushing forward so that his balls further into Stiles' mouth.

"Lube," Stiles managed to get out.

"Lube _and_ you need to take your pants off," Derek pointed out. Stiles was very aware of the fact that he was still in his jeans and briefs, his cock was trying to rip a hole through the front with how hard he was. As Derek moved away from him, going to the bedside table and pulling it open, Stiles shimmied out of his jeans and briefs all in one, tossing them toward the ground and letting out a sigh of relief as he wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a few tugs. He glanced over to where Derek was beside the bed, at the small table. Except now, all that was in the bedside table was a little tissues box and a few pens. He blinked, realizing that he was back in his old apartment, where he hadn't been in years. "Oh, right," Stiles wiped the back of his hand across the lower half of his face, which was slick with his spit. "Uh, hold on," Stiles rolled over on the bed so that his ass was arched upward, and stuck his arm underneath. Derek glanced at what he was doing, but mainly, he was staring at Stiles' bare ass.

He _absolutely_ wanted Stiles to be the one to do _him_, and he was so glad that Stiles had just _known_ that, although he shouldn't be surprised because Stiles had always known what he needed without words being formed.

However, he really wanted to be inside Stiles at well, at some point.

Derek leaned forward and bit at Stiles' ass firmly with his human teeth.

Stiles' body twitched and he let out a moan as he shuddered.

The werewolf couldn't help himself, because Stiles' scent was so strong, and he wished that Stiles was on his front so that he could suck his cock into his mouth, but he settled for biting Stiles' ass again and then as Stiles arched his back and stuck his ass up more, he leaned forward and licked, near his hole, just like Stiles had been doing to him.

"Fucking hell, Derek," Stiles muttered as he finally pushed himself back up and rolled over, a bottle of lube in one hand. "You carry on doing that I'm going to end up coming before I even get myself into the ass of yours." Derek clenched his ass, his hole felt cool from Stiles' spit against the night air, and he snapped himself out of his trance and climbed back up on the bed, straddling Stiles, although staying at his waist rather than moving up his chest and toward his face like he had before. "Here," Stiles handed the lube to Derek and then tipped his hand palm upward.

Derek snapped the lid off and tipped some of the lube onto three of Stiles' fingers. Stiles rubbed it between with his fingers before reaching between their bodies, between Derek's legs. Derek lifted himself up so that he was on his knees and Stiles sucked his lower lip into his mouth as he watched Derek's cock bob at the movement, and he circled one hand—the one without lube—around Derek's thigh and held it firmly before reaching up to touch between Derek's cheeks.

The first finger slipped in easily, and Derek's eyes glowed a dim red before settling back to their usual colour. As Stiles began pressing his second finger against him, Derek let out another moan. Stiles worked his finger inside slowly, pulling all the way out to massage his slick rim and then slowly sliding two fingers in, tugging gently at the rim and watching Derek's reactions like a hawk. Derek sighed as the two fingers filled him, all the way to the last knuckle.

"Come on, sweetheart," Stiles encouraged in a low voice, staring up at Derek. "Ride my fingers." Derek cock twitched and a heavy drop of precome fell to Stiles' stomach as he began to move back and forth. His movements were jerky as he adjusted to the fingers inside him, his cock throbbing, and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut as Derek's walls clenched around him, imagining Derek clenching around his cock that way. Derek's breathing was heavy as Stiles pulled his fingers out and then touched a third finger to him, pressing against the rim and circling the tips around just the inside. Derek took in a breath before slowing beginning to push himself down on Stiles fingers.

Stiles watched as Derek clenched his teeth together. He wondered for a moment if it was pain, and was about to say something, squeeze Derek's thigh and reassure him that they could slow down, but then Derek cock jerked again and he lifted himself up and then shoved himself back down.

"Fuck," Derek's pace was quick and it ached Stiles' wrist from the position that it was in between their bodies, but he didn't pull it away, just helped to thrust upward to fill Derek. Stiles' cock was trapped between them at an awkward angle, and it was leaking so steadily that he could feel it smearing across his lower stomach. "Stiles?" Derek rasped out. "I want you—I want you _properly_ inside me." Stiles chewed down on his bottom lip and he nodded quickly.

"I'm going to tell you this right now—so it's all out in the open," Stiles began as he pulled his fingers out of Derek. "I'm really not gonna last long." Derek's lips tipped up in a smile and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Stiles' mouth. It wasn't quite as heated as they had been before, it was sweeter and almost reassuring, as though Derek was telling him that it was okay.

"I'm not either," Derek murmured against Stiles' mouth as he pulled back. Stiles grinned and then reached for the lube again.

"I—do we need to use condoms?" Stiles asked. He'd had sex with a few people since coming to college, and that had also included Theo, who had said he never used condoms, because it wasn't as though he could catch any diseases, but Stiles had been the one who wanted to use them. He'd used them with everyone, all two people other than Theo, because it felt like such an intimate thing, to have sex with someone without a condom, and there wasn't anyone that he wanted that with just yet.

Or there _was, _but he hadn't had the chance to be with that person.

Until now.

"I would rather not, but it's your choice," Derek replied as he took the lube from Stiles and poured it onto his own hand before reaching down and circling his fingers around Stiles' cock.

"_Fuck_!" Stiles gasped out, thrusting his hips upward into Derek's grip. Derek squeezed him lightly and Stiles groaned again. Derek slid his hand up and rubbed his thumb over the head, which was completely wet with precome, mingling together with the lube and it was an easy up and down slide that made Stiles grip Derek's thighs and dig his fingernails in. It really didn't take much, everything that they had already done had been driving Stiles closer and closer to the edge and as Derek increased his pace, twisting his wrist a little and pressing his thumb into the sensitive underside of his cock, Stiles was dangerous closing to coming. "Shit—_wait_!" Stiles squeezed Derek's thighs and Derek slowed down, although he didn't release Stiles. "Seriously..." he managed a small smile. "I want to be inside you when I come."

"Makes two of us," Derek smirked.

"And no condom," Stiles quickly added. Derek smirk dissolved into a smile and he leaned forward, pushing his tongue between Stiles' teeth without any finesse. Stiles lowered his hands, until they were behind Derek's knees, and he gave them a slight tug, spreading them further apart and then rolling his hips up and his cock pressed firmly against Derek's ass.

"Fuck, Stiles," Derek pulled back and squeezed his eyes shut. Stiles moved one hand away from Derek's knee and he reached between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, steadying himself as he pressed the head between Derek's cheeks. It was slick and wet and the head of his cock caught on the hole that Stiles had stretched open. "Stiles," Derek breathed, his forehead pressed firmly against Stiles', his nose bumping against his with every slight rocking forward motion.

"I got you, sweetheart," Stiles whispered, and he truly had no idea how that term of endearment affected Derek, who hadn't even managed to open his eyes because there were so many things running through him right now.

There were the physical feelings that were rushing over him, one of Stiles' hands tight around his thigh and then the head of his cock pressing against his hole.

And then there were the emotional feelings that were flooding through him, from finally being here with Stiles, in the most intimate of settings, and the human man whispering things like the name _sweetheart_ to him.

Stiles took in a deep breath and then started pushing his hips upward. There was slight resistance as the head of his cock began pressing inside Derek. Derek felt a shiver run through him and then his head dropped, from Stiles' forehead and into the curve of Stiles' neck. His breaths were hot against his skin and Stiles shifted his hands, smoothing them down Derek's sides before both gripping Derek's ass, fingers stretching toward the split of his ass. Derek made a muffled noise against Stiles cheek and kept nodding his head, as though encouraging Stiles to go on. Stiles didn't want to move too quickly—mainly because he didn't want to hurt Derek at all, even though his pain would subside quickly, but also because he knew it was going to be over _really_ fast once he finally buried himself inside Derek. He made small thrusting motions, letting the head of his cock comfortably begin to slide in and out of Derek.

"Come on, Stiles," Derek finally whispered, biting at Stiles shoulder, and Stiles was pretty sure he felt the slight scratch of a fang rather than just his normal teeth, and that made his nails bite into Derek's ass. He slowly but steadily pushed himself inside Derek, his toes curling and his thighs coming up to push his feet further into the bed with just how good Derek felt. Derek's breathing suddenly seemed to stop as Stiles felt him taking his cock, all of it, his body practically _sucking him in_.

"Holy shit," Stiles breathed out as he pushed the last inch inside, now completely inside Derek, his balls pressing firmly against Derek's ass. "Holy shit, holy _shit_, Der—you feel fucking _amazing_...Shit, shit..." Derek suddenly sat up, changing their position and making Stiles close his eyes and slam one fist in to the bed in frustration at feeling so close to his orgasm already. "Dude!" He cried out as he opened his eyes and saw Derek smirking down at him from where he was sitting on Stiles' cock. "Don't _do_ that, I'm already so close!" Derek tilted his head to the side and arched one of his legendary eyebrows.

"You're seven inches inside me and you're still calling me dude?" He asked, an incredible amount of sass in the statement for someone who was shivering every few seconds.

"That's seven and_ a half_ inches, thank you very much," Stiles retorted, thrusting his hips upward sharply and earning a moan from Derek, the older man closing his eyes. When they opened again, they were glowing red.

"I preferred what you were calling me before," he admitted.

"Sweetheart?" Stiles didn't ask him to elaborate, figuring they didn't need to beat around the bush. Of course Derek liked cutesy nicknames, because under everything else, Derek just wanted to be loved and looked after.

"Yeah," Derek breathed out and Stiles smiled, before rolling his hips, sliding in and then out of Derek. The movements became fluid, Derek using his thighs to lift himself up just a few inches and then bring himself back down to meet Stiles' movements. They created a rise and fall, in and out and Derek's eyes were a constant shade of red while Stiles was fighting to keep his eyes open so that he could catalogue every second of what was happening between them.

Stiles was _so close_ it was ridiculous, and as his thrusts started getting harder, and Derek began making this whining sound, his balls drawn up so tight to his body that his brain was beginning to buzz and the skin of his face was tingling.

"Derek..." Stiles managed to get out, one hand firmly on Derek's hip and the other coming around and firmly wrapping around his cock. "I want you to come with me," he moaned as Derek's ass clenched around him, getting even tighter around his cock in response to Stiles' hand around him. "Shit, shit—"

"Fuck, _Stiles_," Derek braced his hands on Stiles' chest, and Stiles could feel the slight prick of his claws on his pectorals, and that encouraged a particularly strong thrust up and into Derek. Derek's cock was slipping in Stiles' hand, and he actually came before Stiles, spurting through Stiles' fingers and onto his chest, almost reaching his chin. He let out a roar as he did so, fucking himself down hard on Stiles' cock and making Stiles almost black out from his own orgasm as it crashed over him. Derek milked the come from him, his ass contracting around Stiles' cock until he had nothing left to fill him with.

Actually, Stiles was pretty sure he _did_ black out, because the next thing he knew was happening as Derek arranging them gently so that Stiles was spooned by his body.

He liked that.

He liked that Derek didn't just _assume_ that Stiles would be the one spooning since he was the one who had done the fucking.

"You have no idea how glad I am that you're here," Stiles murmured as he pulled Derek's arm tighter around him. His chest and his cock were sticky and he imagined Derek felt similar, but he really didn't care, he just wanted to sleep with Derek's body wrapped around his.

"I'm pretty sure I have an idea," Derek whispered against the back of his neck. "I feel really selfish saying this, but I'm glad you're coming back to Beacon Hills...Even if I said that I didn't want you to."

"I know you just said it because you were trying to be all protective and all that shit," Stiles snuggled back into him. Derek's hand shifted from where it was pressed to Stiles stomach and reached up to press against Stiles' triskele tattoo. Stiles glanced down and realized what he was doing and smiled before closing his eyes. "If you're not here in the morning because you think we're not going to work out or because you think I'm too young or _whatever_ then I'm going to kick your ass."

Derek blinked at the back of Stiles' head in surprise.

Then twisted his lips in a smile before nuzzling up against the back of his neck and promptly falling asleep.

**Let me know what you think x**


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